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Private Eye

Private Eye

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A 1x1 for me and Anna

496 readers have visited Private Eye since blackrider created it.

Introduction

Bay City had always been a main hub of american culture. A melting pot of every kind of race Bay City was located in the heart of America in Western Missouri, it was ironically not located around any 'bay' at all, instead it sat eerily close to the mighty Missouri river. Starting out as a simple cow town Bay City eventually became a 'boom town' of sorts with the explosion of the cattle trade. By the 1940s the newly developed sky scrapers and solidified railroad companies had completely changed Bay City into a sprawling metropolis of metallic giants and busy streets. On an average day hundreds of people could be found going about their business, whether they were on their way to work at one of the many factories or the local shipping yard (on the Missouri river) or simply going home to one of the many apartment buildings that littered the city area.

On Vine street there stood a ten story building made of red brick and mortar home to various business’s that rented out space varying from an entire floor to just a single room. On the seventh floor of the shaby looking brick giant that sat in the middle of Vine Street was a lone office door that had no distinguishing features from the dozens of others save for a large eye stenciled onto the see through glass that sat in the upper frame of the door. Above the eye the words “We never close.” were written in large block letters.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

A lone man sat on the other side of the door in a room that was extremely cluttered, between the large oak desk he sat behind and the row of gray file cabinets that lined the entirety of the right wall there wasn’t much room for anyone who decided to enter the office except for a rather uncomfortable looking wooden chair that sat opposite of the desk the man sat at.

Strewn across the desk were various documents ranging from manilla envelopes to old newspaper clippings and white sheets of paper filled with various text. A large black bowl shaped ashtray sat on the left hand of the desk and was currently overflowing with completely smoked cigarette buts.

The man, who was dressed in a rather dull brown suit and Fedora, stared idly at the ringing phone on the right side of his desk. The thing was a cheap red plastic and refused to stop rining, as if it demanded it be answered. Honestly John felt like he'd been staring at the damned thing for five minutes. Finally he popped a hand rolled cigarette in his mouth, lit it with a freshly struck match, and answered the phone. It appeared as if it had all been done in one fluid motion.

Smooth.

“Jayne Cobb, private eye. Can I help ya?” Jayne asked, rocking back in his black leather chair-a habit he did far to often. Silently listening to the phone for a moment as he took drag after drag from his cigarette Jayne finally spoke again. “I'd be happy to help mam, just go ahead and come on down to my office whenever you’ve got a moment free. I'm almost always here.” With that he wished her a happy day and gave her the address to the office he worked at.

The very next day was like most summer days in missouri: fairly hot with a mild cool breeze. Jayne sat in his small business office, having just poured himself a medium sized glass of bourbon as he sat back in his chair listening to the sounds of the city that wafted in through the open window behind his desk. Business had been slow lately and if it wasn't for Jayne's army pension he'd be in some serious financial trouble. Leaning back in his chair with his glass of bourbon in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other, his mind lingered over memories of his army days and his brief time as a cop-which had ended rather horribly. Honestly some days he didn't even know why he ran this failing business. After finishing his glass he reached into the bottom drawer of his dark brown desk to pour himself another drink when his office door swung wide open with a loud creaking sound.

There in the open doorway was a beautiful redheaded women who stood about 5'10 even and had curves in all the right places, Jayne was extremely taken aback for a minute as he nearly fell out of chair that he was, as always, leaning back in. Quickly studying her over while lighting another cigarette he was immediately drawn to her emerald green eyes and porcelain looking skin, but he needed to be professional here so he quickly cleared his throat. “You must be Mrs. Bandervell. Please, take a seat.” He nodded towards the wooden chair that sat about a foot away from his desk, quickly wishing to himself he had something more comfortable for her to sit in.

“Mr. Cobb I've come to you because I read about you in the papers a few years back and I'm in need of a man who will do anything to find the truth, just like the Shansky case you worked when you were still on the police department.” Even coming from the melodic voice of Mrs. Bandervell the mere mention of the Shansky case brought horrible memories back to Jayne, it was after all the reason he was kicked off the police force.

“Well tell me the specifics of your case, Mrs. Vanderbell. What exactly can I do for you?” Jayne asked in his smooth yet slightly deep voice as he leaned forward, planting both arms on his office desk. And so Mrs Vanderbell explained to Jayne how her husband had seemingly vanished three days prior and the police seemed to have no interest in investigating claiming that he'd probably 'got sick of her and left'. She then explained he'd last been seen at the 'neon moon' a local bar in a shadier part of town that Jayne was all but familiar with

“Mrs. Vanderbell, I have to be up front with you. Our business charges a standard fee of eighty dollars, forty up front and another forty upon completion.” Jayne told her, fully expecting her to walk out at his exorbitant prices. To Johns surprise however she responded in her sultry voice with “I'm willing to pay you two hundred dollars Mr. Cobb, one hundred and fifty dollars now and fifty after completion. Just to show you how serious I am, and I want this to be your top priority.” After saying this she reached into the small black purse that had been strung across her arm and pulled out three fifty dollar bills before placing them on the table in front of Jayne. She also took a piece of paper from her purse and set it atop the money, on the paper was a number drawn in fancy handwriting. “Please, keep me updated Mr. Cobb, I'm worried sick.” And with that she stood up and left the room, not waiting for a response from Jayne.

At first Jayne was suspicious of the copious pay amount he been offered but then quickly wrote it off as a well to do woman’s worry about her husband. Plus there was one hundred and fifty dollars sitting in front of his face which would make most people forget about anything. As soon as Mrs. Vanderbell had left his office John quickly scooped up the money and put it in his wallet before picking up the phone. After dialing a couple of numbers and waiting a few moments, finally someone on the other end had picked up. “Hey Ash its me, Jayne, got us a big case just now. Meet me at the little mexican restaurant on 76th street in an hour? Yeah, sounds great.” With that Jayne hung up the phone, leaning back in his chair with a slight grin on his face.

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Private Eye

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